by Matt Larkin
Chandi mirrored his shrug, swinging her hair about her shoulders, then grinned. “A long journey through darkness and danger? Epic battles? Maybe a little magic?”
“Ah, ha!” He pointed a finger at her. “So you mean to say, something like the way you won Naresh? Diving into peril, risking it all for the love of one man—or woman, in my case?” He grinned. “I think I can manage that.”
“You need help?” The words left her mouth before she realized she’d thought them. But why not? She’d never seen Daha. Maybe if she helped Ben, maybe if she just escaped this place for a while, maybe the Solars would accept her. A trade agreement benefited all, right?
“Ah, Chandi, I’d never turn you away, of course. But I think I can manage the trade deal myself. Besides, Naresh would be furious.” He scratched his head. “Actually, that sounds great. Welcome aboard!”
Chandi leaned against the rail. A stint at sea again. This time, without the rush, without the urgent danger. It wouldn’t be so bad.
She bit her lip. No. Why in the world would the Solars care if she helped Ben? She knew what she was doing when she joined Naresh. And running away to Daha, even helping Ben like this, wouldn’t solve her problems. If the last few years had taught her anything, it was that she was responsible for her own life. She could blame circumstance or duty or family loyalty all she wanted. But those were excuses for not doing what it took to make things right. Because it was easier to feel sorry for herself than to take the longer road.
She sighed. “I can’t actually go, Ben.”
“Was that ever an option?” Landorundun said as she rose from the gangway.
Chandi turned to look at the Solar. Sweat drenched her face and plastered her baju—she still wore the cerulean baju of the Arun Guard—to her skin. And was that a fresh bruise on her cheek? Had Naresh actually hit her? No, that looked like it came from a fall.
Landorundun slapped her hand away and Chandi realized she’d tried to inspect the woman’s injury. “Well? Were you thinking of going to Daha for some reason, Ibu Chandi?”
“No, not really.” Chandi shook her head and watched the Guardswoman. First of the Arun Guard. But then, as far as anyone knew, there were only two left of the original eleven. And without the Astral Temple, without the curates, no one could restore the Guard.
Did that weigh on Landorundun? Did it weigh on Naresh? They could be the last Arun Guard to ever walk the Skyfall Isles. For six hundred years the Arun Guard had protected the imperial family. But Revati was all that remained of the Solar royal family, if she lived at all.
Once, they were war gods. Now they had no war. They were warriors without purpose, protectors without charges. Maybe almost as adrift as she was. The thought startled her. She was not adrift. She had a home here.
“Bendurana is leaving in the morning,” Landorundun said. “We’d like a moment alone, if you don’t mind, Ibu Chandi.”
Chandi nodded and fled down the gangway. She glanced back at the couple as she slunk away into the village. Landorundun had lain her head on her tall beau’s shoulder.
She hadn’t noticed the rain stop, but now the mud puddles were still, except for the chill breeze. Chandi returned to the house she shared with Naresh. He was still there, on the practice mat, forcing himself through every form. His leg always dragged a step behind, though it had grown stronger over the past year. His handwork was beyond perfect—it was masterful.
No running.
“Should I join you, or are you too tired?”
“Please.” Naresh paused to quaff a goblet of water before returning to the practice mat.
Chandi slipped into a fighting stance, hands out before her like tiger claws.
Naresh mimicked her.
She lunged for him and he knocked her hand away. Again and again they parried blows. Then she caught his arm, twisted it backward at the shoulder. Naresh turned with it, pulling free. Their dance was probably only moments, but it felt like a phase.
Everything flowed.
She’d been like this, even as a child, training under Malin. The Macan Gadungan had taught her both Lunar Silat and his own Maitian toyak fighting. At last she could still her mind. Act and react.
Breathe. Step. Move.
She snared his shoulder and swept his legs from beneath him. He toppled to the mat.
Chandi moved to help him up, and he yanked on her sarong and pulled her down on top of him. “Oh really?” she said. “And I think you were still holding back. You’re stronger and faster, but you fall.”
“Maybe I just wanted you on top of me.”
“Maybe you’re afraid to break me. I’m not a ceramic vase, Naresh. I’m a Moon Scion.”
She laid her head on his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair. She could feel it slick with sweat, but it didn’t seem to bother him.
Naresh squeezed her closer. “You told me you couldn’t ever use your Blessings again without risking lunacy. Does that still make you a Moon Scion?”
The truth? She didn’t know. Naresh wasn’t the only one who had lost some grace a year ago. And she told herself it didn’t matter. She’d done whatever it took to save Naresh, and now she was finished with her Blessings. She’d tasted the power of the Moon God, and she’d nearly paid for it with her mind.
Lunacy had driven her to beat Naresh almost to death, to blame him for the murder of Rahu and the kidnapping of Revati. But the Blessings had been oh so sweet, hadn’t they? That rush of power that built in her abdomen and flushed her system. For a moment, she could have been a goddess.
She told herself it didn’t matter. But it did.
CHAPTER NINETY
Rain pattered on the roof above the porch, a slow, steady drumbeat. The truth was, Chandi liked the rain. Naresh talked about the rhythm of the tide, sometimes. He said the flow of the tide mirrored the flow of the universe. She didn’t mention that Chandra controlled the tides.
But rain had its own flow. With her eyes closed, and the gentle drumming above, she could shut everything else out. Pain and memory and thought and loss gave way to breath. Was this what the Solars sought in Kebatinan? Or was there any point to such deep meditation?
If so, she’d already lost it. How could she still her mind when it flew so fast? Ben had been gone for two days, so he should return in a few more. And then maybe Landorundun’s parents would accept him. Would there be a wedding? They all needed something to celebrate.
She opened her eyes and stood, scanning Cenrana village for some sign of Naresh. And then he was there, in the center of the village, as though he’d known she’d thought of him and Sun Strode to find her.
“Chandi!” he shouted. “Chandi!”
Not a good sign. She dashed down the stairs, calling his name. He appeared in front of the house even before she reached the ground.
“They’ve found us. We have to get everyone out, grab what they can carry, run.”
Landorundun appeared beside them. “A pair of dhows are unloading Lunar soldiers in the harbor. It looks like Ignis are moving in on us from the north.”
So the Ignis were still serving the Lunars. She’d done that, without beginning to realize what might come from it. She never should have approached Semar.
And if her father had sent them after her, they would surely loot the village and kill anyone else they found.
“The northern hills are still our best escape route,” Chandi said. “Once we head into the mountains, they’ll have a hard time tracking us. We have to circle the Bone Gulf to get to Daha.”
“King Kertajaya may not shelter us,” Naresh said.
“Ben’s in Daha,” Landorundun said. “I agree with Chandi. We go through the mountains and around the Gulf.”
Naresh shook his head. “We can’t sneak a thousand civilians past the Ignis. At least not without a distraction. You two take them. I’ll buy you time.”
Chandi grabbed his arm before he could Sun Stride away. “Your leg still isn’t healed. I’ll do it.” And she’d be damned if
she’d lose him again.
“I can Sun Stride. I’ll be fine, Chandi. And you can’t use your Blessings. These villagers gave us a home. It’s our duty as warriors to protect them. Landi can’t protect them all alone. You have to go. Please, my love.”
She bit her lip, then grabbed and kissed him. “Come back to me.” She ran.
Smoke rose from the chief’s palace in the north. Chandra knew how many people were inside. Her legs ached to draw her Blessings. To run faster than any human.
A pair of Lunars blocked her path, keris knives in hand. She didn’t know one, but the other she recognized as a soldier from House Soma. By his smirk, he thought he’d win glory by taking her down.
The two soldiers charged her. She dove past one and caught his leg, heaving him to the ground. She braced herself as she rose and twisted the leg until it popped out of joint.
The fallen man’s screams drowned out the rest of the battle. The other soldier almost tripped over himself as he misstepped his charge.
Chandi settled into a crouch, her fingers forming tiger claws before her. The soldier, the man she knew, eyed her a moment, before running off.
Chandi shrugged. Well, best to let him go. She was going to need her toyaks, anyway. She glanced back at the burning palace. People inside needed her, but if there were Moon Scions there … Her weapons had to come first. She ran back toward her house, pushing as much speed out of her mortal body as she could.
She took the steps three at a time. More houses were burning in the north as she dashed inside. Her toyaks rested in a chest in the back, gathering dust. This house she’d built with Naresh, would it burn too? Would their life burn? And for what? What had they done? She climbed into the private chamber, then flung open the trunk and snatched her toyaks.
Whatever else happened, the soldiers here would pay a price for this attack. Naresh’s keris sword sat in a sheath nearby. Chandi grabbed it and tucked it into her sarong.
Smoke clouded the skies as she emerged. If the rain came harder, maybe the village could be saved. Maybe not.
A woman screamed from a nearby house. Chandi ran for it. A man stepped out of the doorway, barring her path. Sacred flame on his baju. Igni. An ally of the Lunars. But not of hers.
The Igni reached a hand toward her. No, not toward her, past her. She glanced over her shoulder. The flames engulfing the palace had spun into a twister. That vortex leapt from the palace toward the Igni.
Chandi dove into a roll as the torrent of fire passed above her. Waves of heat washed over her, singed her hair. She rolled, then rocked back and kipped up.
Speechless, she turned to face the Igni. The flames swirled around the man’s arm. The Igni punched his fist toward her and the flames leapt from his arm in a spiral.
Chandi screamed and leapt to the side, landing hard on the ground and losing her grip on her toyaks. The flames impacted her house. It didn’t burn. It exploded, engulfed in a brilliant inferno twenty feet into the sky. Burning timbers flew in all directions like a Tianxian Fire-Lance had struck the building.
Agony shot through her wrist where she’d landed on it. By the time she regained her feet, only cinders remained of her beautiful home. What in Chandra’s name?
She ran at the Igni as he reached his arm toward the flames again. He tried to swing at her. Too close to use his power? She ducked his punch and thrust both palms into his ribs. He staggered backward, so she swept his feet out from under him, then kicked him in the head. He lay still.
Ashes. She started for the house. Ashes of her life.
The moss kept her tree from burning, but the explosion had singed the rope and knocked it to the ground.
Other Lunars moved around her. Ten? More than she could fight, even if she had her Blessings. She knelt to retrieve her toyaks.
They charged her, led by the one who’d run from her before. Her toyaks flew in wide arcs, deflecting blows from every angle. In and out, fending off three men, with no Blessings. Unable to attack. And then a fourth entered the fray, a Moon Scion by his speed.
“Naresh!” she shouted. Panting for air. Without her Blessings she couldn’t keep up. But she would not die a lunatic. Please, Chandra, not that.
And he was there. Naresh. A heartbeat, he took in the situation. And then he was beside her, eyes glowing like the dawn, moving faster than even a Moon Scion. He caught the wrist of one attacker and twisted. Snapped his other palm into the man’s face. The Moon Scion went down in a heap.
Chandi’s toyak took down another startled man.
The one that had run before tried to back away again. Naresh appeared behind him and caught the back of his leg with his knee, sending the man stumbling forward. Chandi cracked him in the face with a toyak.
Naresh stumbled a little on his bad leg, then righted himself, his face a mask of rage.
The remaining Lunar backed away to rejoin his fellows.
Chandi panted, then threw her arms around Naresh. He held her only a moment before he took the keris sword from her sarong. Pulled it straight from its sheath.
There had to be a dozen Lunars approaching them. Well, so be it. Together they could face this.
The Lunars rallied, glaring, even grinning at her. “Arun Guard!” one of the Moon Scions shouted at Naresh.
Their attackers began to circle them, but all eyes were on Naresh. It was like she wasn’t even there.
Naresh pushed her behind him. “Yes. I am Arun Guard.”
He vanished and appeared next to one, attacking. He was gone again, before Chandi could see if he even connected. Again and again he vanished and appeared among their foes, making a zigzag line through their ranks. Six Lunars fell dead at once.
Chandi stood agape. Not even Landorundun could Stride that fast. She was vaguely aware her toyaks hung limp by her side, but couldn’t lift them.
Naresh swept a man’s legs from beneath him and plunged his keris into the Lunar’s throat as he fell. Then he stood on the roof of a burning building with a Lunar in his arms, and shoved the man into the fires. They tried to fight him, but he was everywhere. A Sun God burning away all opposition.
He stopped, his eyes no longer glowing. His limp invited them in at last. Naresh must have used up the Sun Brand. More and more Lunars were charging him.
It was him they’d wanted all along, wasn’t it? Her father had wrought this destruction to reach Naresh.
She had to move. She ran toward him. Skilled as he was, his bad leg would still impair him if he couldn’t Stride.
And yet, more fell before his blade.
“Come to me!” Naresh roared at the advancing Lunars.
Naresh ran a man through, but another attacked before he could withdraw his sword. He caught the man by his shoulder and twisted it out of the socket.
Every move Chandi had taught him and then some, executed with perfect timing. He used his free arm to parry a knife strike, taking a gash that made Chandi wince. Naresh didn’t seem to notice. He just impaled his attacker.
Chandi reached him, taking down a now-wary Lunar with a swipe of her toyak.
And the Lunars broke, ran from them. Naresh took off, chasing after them, his steps awkward on his bad leg. Two quick steps brought Chandi up to him. She threw her arms around his waist.
“Enough, Naresh! We have to go, now. We have to help the villagers.”
Naresh pulled against her, screaming at the fleeing Lunars, roaring and spewing challenges. But he didn’t throw her off, and she had no doubt he could have.
All of Cenrana burned around them. One glance back at the palace told her it was too late to save anyone trapped inside. But if anything, the bodies of the Lunars outnumbered the dead villagers.
“Rangda’s frozen underworld,” Chandi said. So many bodies. Impaled, hacked open, or groaning on the ground from broken bones and joints.
Ash stained the sky and dirty rain stung her eyes. Naresh grabbed her hand and pulled her along. To abandon another home.
Blood drenched her husband, very little o
f it his.
CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
A thousand refugees did not move with speed, no matter how scared they were. And Chandi suspected they were plenty afraid.
They had passed into Green River Canyon. It was the swiftest route through these mountains, but if an attack came, the moss-covered rock cliffs on both sides made retreat impossible.
At least the rains had stopped, for now. The sun reflected off the slow-moving emerald waters they walked beside, almost blinding her.
The refugees had stopped to take water and rest. Much as they needed it, they couldn’t afford it. Not if those fire-wielding Ignis were after them. Chandi moved to the front to find Landorundun.
Hainuwele grabbed her shoulder as Chandi reached Landorundun. “You brought this on us, didn’t you? How many of our homes do you want to destroy? It’s not enough to drown our capital? Now your people want to burn our fishing villages, too?”
Landorundun walked over and pulled her sister’s hand away from Chandi. She said nothing, but the look she gave Chandi said she knew what the Lunars were really after. Naresh and Landorundun. The remnants of the Arun Guard.
These people were always so quick to blame her, but how could she tell them it was her husband the Lunars wanted? She couldn’t. She’d just killed more of her own people to protect him, to protect all of these refugees, and instead of acknowledging that, Hainuwele was going to glare at her like a child that had stolen her nagasari?
Chandi kicked a rock into the river. Rangda damn that woman.
Naresh had moved downstream to wash the blood away. Chandi approached and sat on the shore nearby, watching him. He dunked his wild hair in the river, trying to squeeze the now-dried blood flakes from it. Shirtless, he could recharge the Sun Brand much faster. Despite his efforts to wring out his baju, the white embroidery was ruined. The black shirt itself might be saved, though she didn’t think she’d want to see him wear it again.
“It doesn’t wash out so easily,” she said at last.
Naresh grunted, then dunked his head one more time beneath the water, disturbing the otherwise serene river. “I think it’s mostly out of my hair now.”